


Change You Like A Remix

by sixlettrsodapop



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Crossover, Gen, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixlettrsodapop/pseuds/sixlettrsodapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Isaac get sent to Neverland and have to deal with the worst villain they've ever faced: Peter Pan?</p>
<p>Henry is like 17 or so; Lost Boy age, not 10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change You Like A Remix

Scott can’t decide who to blame; Stiles is probably a good bet though. Most of his problems stem from Stiles’ dumb ideas and this had definitely been his idea, cramming all four of them into the storage closet that wasn’t big enough for Stiles and Scott, much less them and Danny and Isaac and playing with something he’d found in the shop where he worked. Something that was small and clear, glittering even though the light in the storage closet was dim at best, a single lightbulb hanging from a string. The bean-shaped thing had glowed the smallest amount when Stiles had dropped it before black overwhelmed the closet.

The wooden poles are digging into his shoulder blades and he shifts to relieve some of the pressure before groaning and rolling over and onto his knees; Isaac looks at him from the corner of his eye before returning to glaring at the bored boy below their cages. Isaac had screamed and fought when he woke up, threatened to rip the boy limb from limb when he got out, shook the bars of his cage so much it had rattled on its lines and Scott feared that Isaac would plummet to the ground, but it’d held and Isaac had gone silent as the boy ignored him.

The boy’s clothes are torn up and his hair is a ratted mess, a dagger at his side and he looks like he’s grown up in the forest where they’re being kept. It’s not Beacon Hills, smells different, smokier and wilder than their own forest and there are eyes everywhere; Scott’s wolf is wary constantly, on edge and wanting to growl at the danger it can’t see. He skims his nails over the ties at the corners of the cage and they seem weak, weeds holding wood together, but there’s something else there to help it. It smells old and Scott hates it, the smell of blood and pine and the high burn of fire constantly in his nose and Isaac sneezes from across the branch, rubbing at his nose.

There’s a high keen of laughter across the way and Scott shifts towards the sound; the boy below them stiffens and from the brush, a troop of boys dressed in rags emerges. The laughter dies down as one thin boy comes from the middle of the group and Scott’s wolf jumps, whining high in the back of his head and Scott rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes until he can see stars. Around him, the cage is shaking and when he looks up, he’s eye level with the strange boy in rags. The boy is staring at him with wide, green eyes and his nose is scrunched up and the boy is lucky Scott can’t fit his hands through the bars or the boy wouldn’t have a throat anymore and he takes a deep breath to calm the wolf within. The boy laughs softly and wraps fingers around the bars, as though he’s not afraid of Scott, of what he is, and leans close.

“I never thought I’d see another of you, not after that one in the Maze, but here were two of you, wandering around my forest,” he says and he sounds like he’s speaking to himself more than Scott before he catches Scott’s eye; he’s smiling, something wicked and a shiver runs down Scott’s spine. “I want to keep you.”

The boy had magic, something that swirled thick through the air and settled on Scott’s bones like sorrow, and he used it to bind Scott’s hands until he was wincing and his wolf was howling, fighting to change and escape. They’d been released from their cages and a tall boy with ragged hair had shoved a spear into his back, pushing him along a trail and Isaac was behind him, growling as he was pushed along too.

The boy is standing on a log now, the boy with the ragged hair sitting between his legs, something twisting in his hands, and the rest of the clan standing around them in a circle. Scott’s knees are digging into the dirt and Isaac is whining low in his throat from next to him, eyes deep gold and claws out. The boy appears in front of them and Scott growls as cold fingers grip his chin and tilt his head up.

“Poor, poor puppy,” The boy murmurs, fingers digging in before he pushes Scott away and stands up, brushing his pants off and turning to Isaac. “You first.”

The boy grasps Isaac’s hair tight enough to make the boy wince and Scott aches to go to him, to help, but the binds hold strong and Isaac whines as the air shimmers around him, swirling dark and shimmering gold, bands of purple and red wrapping around Isaac and he shudders. The boy lets go of Isaac’s hair and steps back, letting Isaac fall forward; he catches himself on newly unbound hands and glares at the group, held by the magic surrounding him.

Scott watches as his limbs elongate, back arching and chest expanding, clothes shredding as muscle develops and Isaac howls, face transforming, dark golden fur sprouting along his back to match eyes that are flashing at all of them. He gives a final howl, something long and high that pierces Scott’s heart and makes him whine, shifting and pulling at his bonds, before Isaac lies down, eyes closing. Betas aren’t supposed to be wolves and Scott knows that something is wrong, this isn’t natural, and he aches to fix it. The boy with the ragged hair kneels in front of Isaac, lifting up his head carefully and setting it in his lap, hand petting between his ears before he slides a collar on and ties a long, leather strip to it. He slides Isaac’s head back to the ground and stands up, tying the leather to a nearby tree. He steps back to stand behind the boy and rests a hand on his waist, fingers digging in lightly, and Scott shrinks back as they both look at him.

“We have friends looking for us,” He says as the boy comes forward and crouches down.

“I don’t think you do. This is Neverland, I know everything that happens here.” He says and Scott pauses; Neverland isn’t real, it’s a made-up island.

“Neverland’s make believe. It’s not real.”

The boy flinches before his face turns dark, eyes darkening and smile turning wicked.

“I think Neverland is very much real. Didn’t I introduce myself?” He stands up and steps back, holding his hands up; the air ripples in front of him. “My name’s Peter. Peter Pan.”

Scott wants to protest and tell the boy he’s delusional, Peter Pan isn’t real, but the air is thick, shifting and shimmering around him and he can’t catch his breath to gasp, to howl, to do anything more than close his eyes and grind his teeth against the pain.

~

“I’m not going to keep them forever, Felix. That would be cruel.” Peter says, raising an eyebrow at the blonde boy and Felix shrugs.

Scott watches the two boys with paws over his muzzle; Isaac’s head tipped close, breathing even as he sleeps. It’s twilight over the island, moon high above the trees and shadowing the two boys who aren’t sleeping, instead huddled close together at the edge of the camp. The moon calls to his wolf and makes something ache deep in the pit of his stomach and he buries his howl in Isaac’s fur, wanting to run and be free, away from these boys and their magic that swirls through the air and nips at his nose.

The blonde one, Felix, looks over and Scott stares back until he furrows his eyebrows and walks over, crouching in front of the wolves. He scratches between Scott’s ears and Scott bares his teeth until the boy pulls his hand back, glaring at the dark wolf. Felix smells like an alpha, like blood and fear, like a predator after a hunt and Scott snaps at him, Isaac waking slowly and tensing as he does; he doesn’t want another alpha like the twins, someone who brings death wherever they walk, around him and from Felix’s narrowed eyes, Scott thinks he’s not happy about them being there either. Peter is watching the exchange, not pretending to ignore it, and Scott hears his low chuckle of delight when Felix crosses the camp to sit next to him again, still looking like he’d rather tear Scott’s throat out than cooperate with him.

“Are you jealous, Felix?” he asks and the boy doesn’t answer, gives a short growl from the back of his throat that has Isaac shivering and pawing at the ground, ears flat; Peter is lounging on the ground as though he owns it and the starlight is twinkling through the trees, lighting up specks of dust around him and Felix doesn’t acknowledge him, choosing to stare across the camp at the two wolves. “You jealous, jealous boy.”

Peter’s hand is tangled in the hair at the base of Felix’s neck and he watches as his grip tightens infinitesimally until Felix drops his head back, baring his throat. Peter leans in close to Felix’s ear and Isaac lifts his head, ears perking up as Peter’s whispers don’t reach them. Scott noses at Isaac’s muzzle and Isaac tilts his head towards him, ears pricking in Scott’s direction; it’s hard, Scott thinks, to communicate with Isaac quietly as he wolf, but he tries, pointing a paw in Peter and Felix’s direction and nuzzling his head into Isaac’s neck, licking at the fur there and Isaac must get it from the way he huffs something that sounds like it could be a laugh.

Isaac rolls onto his back, tipping his head back into the dirt until his throat is exposed and Scott wants to laugh, so he barks softly at Isaac and his imitation of Felix, nosing against the side of Isaac’s face and Isaac wiggles, dirt clouding around them. A bark of laughter sounds across the camp and Scott looks up to see Peter watching them, the hood from Felix’s cloak shadowing his face and Felix striding towards them, face twisted into a glare and Scott stands, climbing over Isaac and Isaac’s folded paws are brushing against his chest as he breathes, watching Felix stop and stare. There’s a growl vibrating his ribcage, deep and possessive, an _alpha’s_ growl, and Felix balls his hands before he strides out of the camp. Once his footsteps fade, Scott goes silent and steps over Isaac, lying down again and resting his head on crossed paws; next to him, Isaac rolls onto his side and pushes paws into Scott’s side, a low whine emanating from him and Scott can feel emotions rolling off of him, thanks and guilt and happiness.

Scott watches Peter stand up and stretch, dancing across the sleeping boys until he reaches  one with a shock of dark hair wrapped up in plaid sleeping under a tree. The leaves rustle as a wind sweeps through the camp and a blanket appears in Peter’s hand that he tucks around the boy; Scott sniffs as the magic runs up his nose and Isaac whines out a question he can’t understand. Scott can feel the power radiating from the boy and in the pit of his stomach, the alpha is howling with the need to protect and keep him safe from Peter, from the boys that Peter controls, from Neverland itself.

~

It rains in the morning and the lost boys, as Peter calls them, run frantic building shelters, water dripping from their hair and clothes; it gets into Scott’s fur and he shakes to rid himself of it, but it doesn’t work, soaked in deep and it itches. Isaac takes shelter behind Scott, tucked into the tree trunk and his nose nudges into Scott’s shoulder as his bites at his front legs. His fur is puffed up with the rain and Scott would pay to have a picture of Isaac right now; he’s deep tan from the water and spiky like a Pomeranian, dirt making speckles of dark brown along his back and neck from the night before.

Peter is sitting in the center of the camp, completely dry with a tiny woman nestled in his hair and watching the lost boys, tapping his fingers against his thigh. Felix hasn’t come back yet and Scott would purr if he could; he dislikes the boy as much as he can, but he thinks Felix probably hates him and would gladly kill him if he was allowed. Isaac stills behind him and Scott closes his eyes for a moment before looking over; Isaac is watching the boy with the dark hair, head cocked to the side before he stands up and shakes himself out, trotting to the end of his makeshift leash and spinning in a circle once before sitting down. He cocks his head again and whines, eyes still on the boy.

Scott watches as the boy walks over; he’s long and gangly, Scott’s age, and Isaac stands up, pushing his head under the boy’s chin. The boy’s face splits into a grin and it’s the first time Scott has seen a genuine smile in the past day, one not tainted with whatever is running in Peter’s blood that tilts him towards the moon. The sun lives in this boy’s veins and makes the light behind his eyes, threads over his skin and makes him shine and sparkle like fairy lights on Christmas trees. The boy pets down Isaac’s back and Isaac’s tongue lolls from his mouth; from across the camp, Peter’s eyebrows furrow and the rain falls harder in the forest. Scott shakes his head to clear his eyes and Felix storms into the camp, rain parting around him as he stops next to Peter.

Felix gives an onceover to Isaac and the boy before he catches Peter’s eye and Scott watches as Peter arches his head back to hold Felix’s gaze as they speak; the rain muffles them until their voices are only a rumble beneath the drips and he lifts a paw to rub at his ear. This place muffles his senses, dulls his hearing and runs up his nose and down his throat and he wants to whine, paws at his nose before setting it back on the ground. The rain lightens and Peter is smiling, something nearly genuine, but still twisted at the corners as he holds Felix’s gaze for a moment before looking at the boy and Isaac; his smile drops, but Felix drops a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezes briefly before he steps back. The tiny woman sitting in Peter’s hair flies down to his shoulder and stands on her toes to whisper in his ear before she flies off and soon enough, the rain lightens until it stops and the sun peaks out, light glinting off wet leaves and puddles.

“Boys!” Peter jumps onto his log and Scott watches him; Isaac stiffens, but the boy ignores Peter and stays next to his side, hand scratching down his back. “We have new visitors to Neverland. Let’s greet them in true lost boy fashion.”

The lost boys raise their weapons, a cacophony of cheers and yells starting as they fan out into the forest, but Felix and Peter stay back, both watching the boy and Isaac. Scott shivers and feels that urge in his stomach to protect, growls at them as he walks over and nudges Isaac behind him.

“Don’t worry, puppy. You’re going to stay right here with Henry.” Peter says and raises his hand; Scott smells the magic, the decay and destruction, before he feels it moving through the air, knitting itself into a neat bubble around him and Isaac and the boy _Henry_. Peter looks at them as though checking his work before he disappears and Felix follows the lost boys’ trail soon after, spiked club on his shoulder.

The camp goes silent except for their breaths and Scott stretches, front legs lying long in front of him and hips in the air before he sits down. Isaac follows suit and Henry sits between them, hand holding onto Isaac’s collar. Isaac lies down and rests his head on one of Henry’s thighs, ears perked up and eyes bright as Henry scratches at him. Scott pushes the urge to pull Isaac away down because this boy isn’t dangerous, the sun runs through him, and Isaac trusts him.

“Peter will let you go,” Henry says and Scott walks over, lying down close on the side of Henry Isaac isn’t occupying, crossing his paws and looking up at the strange boy. “I promise. Once he gets bored of you or Felix gets frustrated enough to admit he’s jealous, he’ll send you home.”

Scott nods and barks, rearing back at the sound before laying his head on the ground and dragging paws over his ears, whining. A hand digs into the fur at his neck, scratching and he wants to purr again because it feels good, but it’s still weird to consider himself a dog, capable of making canine sounds. Scott can hear the clang of metal on metal from somewhere else in the forest and Isaac whines when he hears it, nudging his nose into Henry’s belly and Henry scratches behind his ears, oblivious to the sounds.

By the time the lost boys tromp back to camp, Henry is lying on his back with Isaac’s head on his stomach. They’re dirty and covered in mud and missing some boys, blood dripping from cuts crisscrossing their chests, faces, and arms; Isaac shivers as he looks at them. Henry doesn’t look over at them until Peter walks into the camp, frown on his face. It’s then that Henry moves Isaac’s head and rolls to his feet, walking over to Peter; Peter seems to soften slightly, the slope of his shoulders loosening and Scott walks over to Isaac. The other wolf is lying on the ground, head on his paws, staring forlornly after Henry as though he’s lost his best friend.

Henry stays with Peter until Felix comes back to the camp and Isaac whines quietly the entire time, low so no one can hear him except Scott and ignoring Scott’s attempts to console him. Henry’s quick leaving of Peter’s side to look at Felix’s heavily bleeding arm makes Scott want to whine and pull Henry away from the taller boy, especially when he fixes Henry with a glare. Henry doesn’t back down from Felix, staring back at the other boy until he sighs heavily and lets Henry wipe the blood off his arm with a towel conjured with a blink. Peter watches the exchange with his nose wrinkled before leaping onto his log, the fire leaping into the sky behind him and sword in the air, free hand on his hip. Scott’s reminded of the pictures in the book and huffs; it’s ridiculous that this boy who’s their age has him caged as a wolf, waiting to be released like he’s grounded and he paces on his short leash, growling deep.

The sky is darkening quickly, sunlight disappearing faster than it does in Beacon Hills and Scott hates it; he likes the sunset and he likes his days long. The days in Neverland fade as fast as Peter wants them to, is what it seems and it’s not safe for one person to have that much power. He shakes hard as Deucalion’s face swims in front of him and bares his teeth, growling at the invisible enemy he knows is dead. Henry pulls his gaze from Felix and looks at the two wolves, smile fading like the sunlight, and Scott wants to whine and grovel at making the smile disappear. Isaac does whine; a noise pitched high that echoes through the camp and over the boys’ chatter.

Peter is talking to the boys, waving his sword in the air, and Scott can’t hear him, can only see his mouth moving and his face exuberant as he does talk; the fire dances behind him, jumping higher and higher as the boys’ cheers get louder and Felix rolls his eyes when Peter leaps off his makeshift podium, tossing his sword as he does. The sword lands in the ground in front of Scott, blade deep in the ground and it wavers for a moment before going still and Scott growls, barks at it before he shakes his head and turns away. Isaac is still lying on the ground, head on his paws and whining quietly now, a continuous noise that drives Scott to lay next to him and lick at his head, instill a sense of comfort into the bigger wolf. Felix barks out a laugh across the camp, something short and full of mocking. Scott could hate him, he thinks; Felix is a challenge, an alpha in his own right, the wolf of Neverland and he runs the island, protects it, destroys the threats Peter can’t be bother to deal with and Scott had wandered right into his territory.

It’s only logical that Felix hate him, want to humiliate and destroy Scott and Isaac, want to protect his territory, but Scott doesn’t even want to be here and he growls into Isaac’s neck, eyes locked on Felix. The other boy doesn’t look away, holds Scott’s stare until Peter steps in front of him and his attention is drawn to the short boy; for as much of a predator Felix is, he obeys Peter completely, never stepping over Peter’s rules even if it claws at him to do so and Scott senses this, can feel it in his bones how much Felix wants to get rid of him, but the boy is holding back. Isaac twists next to him, standing up and walking to the end of his leash, tugging on it and whining, pawing at the ground; with a push on his back from Felix, Henry walks over and Isaac knocks his head into the boy’s stomach, barking until Henry pets him, drags a hand down his back, nails scratching.

Peter’s face splits into a grin, something manic in the way he looks at the two wolves and Henry, teeth dangerously sharp as he stalks over and Scott rears back, growls at the boy as he grabs Isaac’s collar and pulls him away from Henry. The air is thick around Scott, clogging his senses as magic rushes around Peter, eager to follow him and stopping Scott from jumping at the boy, from tearing the boy limb from limb until he stops forcing that whimper out of Isaac. He lets go of Isaac and the wolf is shivering, shaking hard enough that Scott can see it even though the magic is blurring his vision and he hasn’t stopped growling, a rumble in his chest as Peter laughs.

He doesn’t try to pet Scott, keeps his fingers dangling right out of Scott’s range of movement, before he walks away, back straight and climbs into a hammock, crossing his arms behind his head and smirk twisting his mouth. He looks so proud, _smug_ , like he’s achieved something great by scaring Isaac and Scott feels hatred run white-hot through himself, flooding his veins and lighting up a spark that has him throwing his head back and howling, long and anguished, mixing with the laugh Peter is releasing and dying into something haunting that floats through the nearly empty camp.

Scott whines and rubs a paw against his muzzle, looking around the camp; the boys were just there, there’s no way they could just disappear and he howls again, ideas running through his mind of how they could be gone. It doesn’t make sense and he whines, paws at the ground, Peter’s laughter ringing in his ears. Isaac is fuzzy, a blur against the dark background of the forest and Scott stumbles forward, nosing into Isaac’s side and the wolf jumps away, winding around Henry’s legs and sitting down behind him. The boy’s mouth drops over before his eyebrows furrow and he untangles himself from Isaac’s leash, picking his way across the camp to where Peter’s lounging. That drives Scott’s anger, the fact this kid can lie around while his lost boys are missing and he growls, hisses, alien noises that escape before he can stop himself.

Henry’s hand catches Peter’s wrist and Scott blinks as the camp comes into focus suddenly; some of the boys have moved to pallets and sleeping bags, but most of them are still around the fire. Felix is looming over Henry now, face shadowed by his hood and Henry looks fierce, angry as he glares at Peter. Peter raises a single eyebrow and tugs his hand away, but Scott can see the tense line of his body, the way his knee has cocked slightly towards Henry as if to hold him away in case he jumps at Peter.

“You’re driving them mad, aren’t you?” Henry asks and Peter shrugs, a barely noticeable movement of his shoulders. “It’s not funny, Peter.”

Peter looks over Henry’s shoulder at Felix and catches his eye, swallows hard at Felix’s short nod.

“I wasn’t driving them mad.” He mutters and Scott’s ears strain to catch what Peter’s saying; Isaac’s started whining again, soft, but still distracting and Scott lies next to him. “Neverland is pulling out their greatest fears. It’s what she does.”

Peter’s hand has come to rest on Henry’s hip and Henry twists away, batting away Felix’s hands too and walking back to the two wolves; he crouches down and Scott notices that Peter is watching, hands clenched into fists. Henry’s got his hands deep in Isaac’s fur and the wolf has lied down, snout against Henry’s shoe.

“You’ll go home in the morning. I promise.”

~

Felix is stalking around the camp, gritting his teeth and Scott watches the boy; he has to be Scott’s age, maybe a couple years older, but his presence is bigger, fiercer and the boy glares down at Scott when he stops pacing. He wants to say something, but bites his tongue; there’s a club resting on Felix’s shoulder and Peter hadn’t told him to not use it. The transformation back to human had hurt worse than the one to the wolf’s form and even though Felix couldn’t kill him with the club, Scott wasn’t in a hurry to feel his bones forming back together again.

Isaac is strangely silent next to him, watching Felix and Scott wants to ask him if he’s okay, but he’s obviously not and Peter walks into the camp, Henry so close behind him he’s nearly bumping into Peter; Scott bites his tongue as the boy stops, hands behind his back. Peter’s staring at him and he instinctually pulls against the binds around his wrists, stopping when Felix’s hand twitches toward his club. Peter walks closer, stopping in front of Scott and the only two boys who are there flank him, Felix tall with his face twisted into a glare and Henry, soft and light and out of place with the goodness falling off him in spades. Peter clears his throat and Scott looks at him, with his birdlike bones and bright eyes, hands on his hips as he waits.

“I’m only letting you go because Henry says I should.” Scott still can’t believe this is the worst monster he’s ever met, a simple boy; Peter steps closer, tips of his boots knocking into Scott’s before he looks at Isaac, drawing a growl from the other boy. “If it were up to me, I would keep you forever.”

That pulls a growl from Felix and Peter laughs, delighted; he murmurs something about jealousy that Scott doesn’t catch, magic twinkling from Peter’s fingertips and Henry flushes the lightest pink as Felix shifts. Peter turns from the boys and focuses back on Isaac. The magic falls from him in waves, but Peter holds it back as he stands right in front of Isaac. Behind the trio, a dark shape is materializing, legs, arms, and a head forming as Scott watches.

“No one says no to Peter Pan, Isaac. If I had my choice, your punishment would go on much, much longer.” Peter says and before Scott can question what he’s said, the dark shape swoops over and encompasses them and Scott closes his eyes to avoid the smoke just for a moment.

~

Scott wakes up on the floor of his own bedroom. This shouldn’t be as much of a surprise to him as it is. Isaac is groaning next to him and Scott flails out an arm, grabbing the other boy’s hand and sighing when Isaac laces their fingers together. They stay silent, soaking in the warmth of being back in Beacon Hills until Scott remembers what Peter said.

“What did Pan mean?” He asks, turning to look at Isaac and the other boy shifts his eyes to stare at something over Scott’s shoulder.

“Before Derek turned me, I heard Pan’s music, but I didn’t go with him. No one did.” Isaac swallows and Scott rubs his thumb against the side of Isaac’s hand. “He wasn’t happy, disappeared suddenly, but I never thought I’d see him again, you know? Thought it was a dream or hallucination, something like that.”

Scott sits up and Isaac tightens his grip on Scott’s hand, pulling Scott over and into his chest.

“Let’s just stay here for a bit. Before we have to explain everything to everyone over and over again.”

Scott aches to go tell Stiles that he’s back, but Isaac is shaking the barest amount and Scott rearranges his head on Isaac’s chest and moves his arm so it’s not trapped beneath his body. Isaac needs this right now and Scott supposes Stiles can wait a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so.
> 
> This fic was probably a mess. I'm so sorry. It grew out of my hands, tbh. I wasn't expecting almost 5K of fic when I started writing. Also, I probably wrote Henry wrong. Sorry.
> 
> This is a present for my friend Maria and much thanks goes to Caitlin, Hattie, Sugg, Dani, and Cailin for listening to me whine about it and also reading it when it was an even worse mess.
> 
> Please don't skewer me alive for this.


End file.
